In Her Eyes
by Rachel-Jane Kensington
Summary: She stares through my shadow, she sees something more. Believes there's a light in me, she is sure. ArMor songfic oneshot, inspired by Josh Groban's 'In Her Eyes'. Rated T for minor suggestive themes.


A/N: This is my first attempt at both ArMor fiction and a song fic, so don't be afraid to tell me what needs polishing (get it? polishing, ArMor, lol...*clears throat*). I always connect my stories to music but song fics specifically have escaped me until now. Arthur and Morgana feel as though their lives could be told in nothing but songs, so there will probably be more of these fluff monsters to come lol

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own either Merlin or the song _In Her Eyes_. All rights reserved to BBC1 and Josh Groban.

**In Her Eyes**

_She stares through my shadow, she sees something more  
Believes there's a light in me, she is sure and her truth makes me stronger  
Does she realize I awake every morning with her strength by my side_

Arthur doesn't like to brood. He's not the type to sit around and think about everything that's eating him up inside. The faces of the men he must kill on this campaign. The ill fate their wives and children will be resigned to. The dangerous, teetering edge of second-guessing his decision to declare full-scale war on the Saxons. But he knows that, in reality, only a fool who would think he even had the choice. The barbarians from the West have made it clear: it is either their survival or Britain's.

His usual method of venting frustration, or rather swatting it away, is sparring in the training grounds with one of his knights until he can close his eyes and see only black. He isn't afraid of what he may face in battle, just of taking the wrong paths. Leading his country can sometimes be likened to walking through a thick forest devoid of any paths or tracks. He must simply follow his instincts, hack away into the darkness and pray for the best.

But this war is the biggest Britain has seen since the countrymen banded together to drive off the Romans. He is putting not only his own troops at death's door, but those under the command of dozens of noblemen from across the entire island. Fathers and sons and brothers and husbands he has never met, and never will. How can this be the right path, he asks himself over and over again. Is there no way at all to sit and talk with these Saxons? Surely, a true King would find a way to avoid bloodshed and grief. What the hell is it about his little, craggy rock that seems to make every army in Europe desperate to invade and conquer anyway?

This morning he can't bring himself to leave his chambers. He can't sleep for nerves, can't eat for the thought of blood and broken bones on a battle field, he has no idea what to do with himself. So, he sits at the window and looks out across his lands, watching the pale sunrise that stretches across Camelot. The bright rays of pure white remind him of the woman soundly dozing in his bed. Turning, he can't resist another look at her, though he is sure he's already lost count of how many glances he has snuck in since waking over an hour previous.

A small smile tugs up one side of his tired face as he remembers her arms around him the night before, the words she had whispered in his ear before falling asleep.

"You _will_ bring me something, won't you? When you return as the brave, victorious and magnificent King that you are?" She always begged him to be careful so as to not to come back a bedridden heap. Always to show what mercy he could so the people would take pride in the compassion of their King. But she never doubted that he would come home. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but her unwavering trust was so much of what drove him to victory. Her belief in him made him desperate to live up to her expectations, made him sure that he could in the first place.

"And what would the Lady of Camelot like in return for the absence of her husband? Jewels? Fine clothes? A new crown perhaps?"

"Arthur." Her jade eyes had given him that soft, pleading look that made him think he could literally hear her begging through the intensity of her gaze. He always felt helpless when she looked at him that way. Not that he would ever let _her_ know that.

"No new crowns, eh? Hmm. What about a nice velvet cloak, lined in fur. I'll pluck the minks off the White Mountains myself if I have to." He swore theatrically, laying a hand over his heart. Morgana only rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious."

"As am I. I haven't been hunting in ages, I'm afraid my cross bow may be rusting in the armory." A wrinkle of dissatisfaction found his nose at the thought.

_I am not a hero, I am not an angel, I am just a man  
Man who's trying to love her, unlike any other  
In her eyes I am_

Seeing that he was going to keep dodging this in typical Arthur fashion unless she forced him to pay attention (in typical _Morgana_ fashion), the Queen laid a hand on both of his shoulders and lifted her legs to straddle his hips. Her piercing green eyes looked down at him from her perch with a very serious intensity. If he hadn't been listening before, she certainly had his attention now. A sigh of submission parted his lips and he ran a hand up her arm, combing her thick hair back between his fingers.

"Yes darling?" He asked softly, eyes betraying his amusement. It never ceased to amaze him that she could get anything she wanted out of him if she only pushed the right buttons.

"I want you to promise that you will stay home for more than two weeks next time. I love this land and I love our people, but I need you with me." There was something in her pleading that made her sound vulnerable. As much as he hated himself for ever causing her grief, he savored the knowledge that no one even knew Morgana had the capability to feel vulnerable. That he was the only person who could put her in such a state.

"You are an unusually strong Queen." He nodded in affirmation, "You need no King."

"Don't speak like that." A childish crease found her brow at the suggestion of ever ruling alone, whether capable or not.

"We both know it's true." He told her, never afraid of dragging her towards the things she was always trying to run from, the raw and honest truth of life often being one of them. "I never fear for my life because I trust the Kingdom in your hands. It is not a promise of death, Morgana, only a promise of faith."

Nodding silently, she leaned down to kiss him softly before taking up on her side of their bed once again.

"You are a better King than any of us could have hoped for, Arthur Pendragon." She murmured, tucking her body into his side, resting her face in the crook of his neck.

"My first duty is to you and our children." He reminded her, muscular arms wrapping around her petite but strong frame.

"Then you are an even better husband." Her warm mouth pressed a kiss to his neck and he could feel the smile that stretched her lips. Before he could even think to try and fight it, he was wearing a lovedrunk grin of his own.

_This world keeps on spinning, only she stills my heart  
She's my inspiration, she's my northern star  
I don't count my possessions, all I call mine  
I will give her completely to the end of all time_

It was tradition that the Queen did up the laces and fixtures of the King's heavy mail and armor before he left for battle. Though it was a custom begun by Arthur and Morgana, and one that only they understood the unspoken importance behind, no one questioned them and had, after so many years, only come to expect it.

"It is growing colder, summer will soon be gone from us." She murmured from behind him, "Though with you leaving I'm sure it will feel like the dead of winter by nightfall."

"I'll miss you too." He chuckled softly, reading between the lines of his wife's ever complex and mysterious elusions. She smiled at his words, grateful to hear them so heartfelt in these last moments alone together. Who even knew how long he would be gone from her this time.

"I beg of you, as always, to show mercy and never be careless with your own safety."

"Mercy. Safety. Got it." He nodded sternly as though these had been direct orders given from a higher ranking officer. Morgana only rolled her eyes, kneeling to fix the slipping armor over his kneecaps.

"Try and leave the jokes _off _the field?" She added to her list, shaking her head at his ability to keep the air light and playful even then. What she didn't know, what she would _never_ know, was that her love and compassion inspired so much mercy in his own heart. He had always been a kind man, never able to act as ruthlessly harsh as his father. But compassion was something he had had to learn, it had been something that had only been awoken in him through watching Morgana.

She tended to the sick during times of plague, when surely any royal should be safely locked away. She came to the aid of the wounded in times of attack upon Camelot, when her place was in the hold. She opened up the spare rooms of the castle to orphans and gave any extra stores to the people before herself in times of famine. Though she had been raised a princess, her heart seemed to know only how to kneel and serve others and it was a trait that Arthur had always greatly (and rather silently) admired in her. It had not been easy after years upon years of training to disconnect his emotions from people in order to make them easier to defeat in battle, but Morgana had reforged that element of humanity within him and he was endlessly grateful to her for it. As were their subjects.

_In her eyes I see the sky and all I'll ever need  
In her eyes time passes by and she is with me_

As they stood in the courtyard, the other knights sitting proudly on their horses, Morgana handed him a white, beautifully embroidered handkerchief. As Queen, she had many, but this one had been stitched in her own steady hands, the designs sewn in the same shade of green that thrust out from her eyes

"You're giving me a _hanky_ for luck?" He took it gingerly between his index finger and thumb, face a clear mixture of overdramatic disgust and confusion. Though he pretended offense, it was only for the possibility of seeing her smile a real, genuine and beautiful smile just one last time before he rode off.

"It's not for luck, you ungrateful oaf." Though she was insulting him, he had also achieved his ends because the slur had been entwined with a laugh.

"Are you afraid I'm going to catch a cold?" He quirked an eyebrow, showing off that cocky smirk she loved so much.

"You're not going to catch a cold and we both know you don't even need luck." She replied evenly, a bemused smile resting on her face. "You have the strength of your men, the love of your people and the confidence of your lady that all will be well. I simply thought, you know, a little reminder of me from time to time." She offered up a shrug that pretended to be unaffected by his outward distaste for the token.

"I won't need reminding." He promised, taking both of her hands and pulling her closer so that there was barely any space between them at all. "In fact, my mind might be more at ease if I had some way of keeping you out of it, at least every now and then."

"But that wouldn't be fair, my lord." She murmured, her smile stretching into an infatuated grin. "For the only thing that quells my own longing is knowing that you are suffering as well."

"Always the sadist." His lips brushed hers as he spoke, leaning in closer and closer until their mouths were slowly but passionately melding together. Finally however, he had to pull away. War was not one to be kept waiting.

"As if you don't enjoy the torture." She mumbled playfully under her breath as he hoisted himself up into the saddle.

"Try to stay out of trouble, my love." He chuckled back, turning his horse towards the courtyard entrance. "And thank you for my gift."

"I wait for the day when you shall return it to me." She called after him, waving with the enthusiasm of a small child and yet at the same time with all the grace of a Queen. She stayed in the courtyard until the hoof beats of his troops could no longer be felt shaking the ground beneath her feet and waited for him full of a contented patience they both felt. She had no idea what he would see on his travels or how battle would affect him. But her faith in his victorious return kept them both at ease and the distance only amplified the passion that burned between them.

* * *

Aww lol That turned out way fluffier than I thought it would, but *shrug* Who can resist themselves when dealing with these two? lol Please take a moment to leave me a comment or suggestion, I'd really appreciate it! Thanks everyone!


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